


the love between friends could create life

by AWitchOfMind (MroBeta)



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence, Found Family, Gen, Very Dubious Magic Use, these characters are FINE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21796015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MroBeta/pseuds/AWitchOfMind
Summary: After the end, Sam brings them back.(Although sometimes it comes at a price.)Written for the Rusty Quill Secret Santa
Relationships: Sam & Betty | Bette & Cleo
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16
Collections: Rusty Quill Secret Santa 2019





	the love between friends could create life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flammenkobold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flammenkobold/gifts).



> Admittedly, it has been a long time since I have written any fanfiction, so this may not be as polished. Hopefully I’ve done them justice.
> 
> (The two parts to this are not connected - they are just two different ways that this could have happened.)

“Do you have any ID?”

Sam opens their mouth to respond on instinct, but instead closes it and nods silently. The bartender doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t ask why they are there - if they are old enough to be there - just waits as Sam hands over a slip of card they hadn’t needed before. Before, they were _not a kid, I swear_ , and _totally an adult, would a kid have a gun like this?_ , but now?

Now, they’re not a kid. They’re eighteen, buying a drink like every other eighteen-year-old in the UK does. Like they had done for the past few years. They tried to ignore the way their voice cracked when they asked for a gin and tonic and the way their hand shook when they handed over a few pounds. They had to be strong.

It had been four years. Four years of driving across the country, picking up allies and running over monsters along the way. Four years of losing said allies, with the pit of dread in their stomach growing every time. It had been so long that the monster-hunting had become more of a job (literally) and they had come to expect that something bad was going to happen, no matter what. Maybe a knucker would come and destroy the pub, just like it had when they lost— well. That doesn’t matter anymore.

Tonight was the night that Sam brought them back.

Turns out four years of driving and fighting alongside other people can help you learn new things, even if the people don’t last. Like how to bring back a ghost, and what cultists to chase up and threaten until they tell you the details of a resurrection ritual. Sam had got in some very tough situations, but in the end, it was never them who ended up doomed. And eventually, they had all the things they needed to bring back the two people they had cared for most with no consequences.

(Alright, perhaps a few consequences, but nobody would _really_ notice a new clearing in the middle of the woods.)

They hadn’t expected it to actually work, but it had. Cleo was missing her arm, and Betty’s form wavered more than it used to, but that didn’t matter. They were back.

(Sam would vehemently deny the fact that they had cried. It’s not like anyone else was there to see them, but still. _Cleo_ was there.)

“I’ll have a spirit!” says a voice behind them, and even though the joke was never funny, Sam finds themself laughing. Cleo rolls her eyes, but to her it had only felt like a week since she had heard it. To Sam, it had been yearsages. They were afraid that they would never hear it again.

It had taken so long, but they finally brought their family back. And this time, they were determined not to lose them again.

~~~

It took Sam several minutes to process what had just happened. That huge monster - knucker, whatever - had fallen apart in midair. Half of the village had been demolished by it. Cleo wasn’t moving, and Betty had disappeared. And a deep sinking feeling was starting to grow inside them.

At least they still had the car. But that wasn’t enough. Besides, cars can be replaced. Not them, though. Not their… their family.

Without thinking, Sam suddenly broke into a run, dashing towards… something. Something that could help. The pub was full of people, but how many of them would know what to do? They found themself heading towards the library - even though books were pretty boring most of the time, they had heard that evil cults or spooky magic people often used those massive tomes. It would have been unlikely that a small (now abandoned) village library would have one, but in a stroke of ~~bad~~ luck, they found one hidden down the back of a shelf. Sam wasted no time skimming through page after page of unreadable handwriting and incomprehensible languages, until one dog-eared section caught their eye. 

The page was in English, and it seemed to describe some sort of ritual of resurrection. Even with a familiar language, it was still hard to read (Thaumogenesis?) but it was the only thing they had, so Sam closed the book and ran back to the statue where they had left Cleo. They tripped over the hilt of her sword and fell before her, immediately opening the book and starting to recite the words. They were pretty sure they messed up a few words, but after a few seconds of complete silence - save for a faint breeze through the village - something started to happen.

The weird shimmer in the air, like gas was leaking nearby, started to shift into a familiar figure. At the same time, the woman on the ground stirred and opened her eyes. The missing arm was back, and Cleo used it to push herself up as Sam threw their arms around her. Once Betty was aware of herself again, she took a closer look at the tome, now discarded on the pavement. 

“Sam,” she said slowly, eyes narrowing at the words written on the open page, “Where did you get this?”

Sam had pulled away and was rubbing at their eyes, clearly trying to make it look like they weren’t crying. “I found it,” they answered, “Nobody was there, so I just took it. We can probably put it back in the library before anyone notices—”

Sam froze in place as a chill ran down their spine. The same feeling of dread made itself known in their body. Probably the wind.

The spell, or ritual, or whatever it was had worked. Even if they _had_ managed to bring a third thing back, it didn’t change the fact that their family was here, and not dead.

Still, they couldn’t help but feel that something may have gone wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Ben: so these characters are dead and this one will have bad things happen to them for the rest of their life
> 
> Me, making up rituals that bring people back to life with no major drawbacks: i can do what i want


End file.
